"This isn't the place for talking, devil," Diana said, her voice sharp as her blade. "Either put yourself in service, or you'll be the next to fall by my spear."
Valor chuckled, tilting his head. "Still salty about Venice, I see." His eyes glittered with amusement, not fear. "Relax, Amazon. I'm not here to steal your thunder. Glavor's a slippery one. He'll bleed you out by inches before you ever land a killing strike. You're not fast enough to stop him outright. Strong, yes—but not fast."
Before Diana could answer, the night split with a mechanical growl.
The rumble of an engine.
Both turned as a black motorcycle soared through the air, fragments of glass and fire trailing its path. The rider leapt free mid-arc, cloak snapping, boots crunching asphalt as the bike detonated against a knot of thralls.
Nightwing stood between them and the portal, his armor now reinforced, shadows clinging to him like a second cape. In his hand he carried something no devil mistook.
A blade of radiant steel. Its edge gleamed with holy light, humming with a purity that made the shadows recoil.
Valor's grin faltered. His vision sharpened, and the infernal system in his blood whispered warnings:
[System Booting: Analyze]
Weapon: Olden Star (Lvl 44)
Damage Type: Radiant (800 + WIS modifier × 4)
Warning: Artifact will disable regeneration and downgrade infernal abilities on contact.
Description: Forged in silence. Carried by martyrs. Hated in Hell.
Valor's lip curled. "Well. Someone's been shopping in the family vaults."
Nightwing's eyes narrowed, expression unreadable. "You planning to help, or get in the way?"
"Depends," Valor replied smoothly. "If your shiny toy slips, I don't plan to catch it."
Diana cut the tension with steel. "Enough." Her shield slammed against the pavement, sparking. "The enemy stands there. Focus."
Glavor stepped forward, laughter spilling from the mouths across his armor. His body flickered, shadows folding over themselves. "So many champions," he crooned. "So many ways to waste time before the city drowns."
Then he vanished.
—
The battle became chaos.
Diana's shield caught the first blow from behind, sparks screaming as claws raked across it. She pivoted, her lance thrusting, only for the demon to blink away. Another cut seared across her thigh.
Nightwing moved like a shadow himself, the radiant blade flashing arcs of silver through the dark. Every time Glavor materialized near him, the demon faltered—the blade's glow biting deeper than steel. But Glavor never stayed long enough for a finishing strike.
Valor answered trickery with trickery. Hellfire hissed from his palms, curling into whips that lashed across the battlefield. He didn't try to pin Glavor—he mirrored him, predicting his flickers, forcing the demon into Diana's strikes. "There!" he barked once, and her lance gouged a seam of armor, ichor spilling.
The commander shrieked, then fractured into three shadows at once. Each form attacked from a different angle—fang, claw, blade of bone.
Diana braced. Valor snarled. Nightwing lunged.
Her shield caught the first. Valor's fire incinerated the second. Nightwing's radiant blade pierced the third—only for it to burst like smoke, a trick. The real Glavor blinked back behind Diana, claws spearing for her throat.
She turned too late—
—but Valor was there, catching the blow in his palm. Black ichor hissed against infernal skin, searing. Valor grinned through the pain. "Tricky. I told you."
Diana drove her lance through Glavor's side. Nightwing's blade followed, biting radiant into his chest. The commander screamed, voices splitting, armor cracking with each sound.
He flickered to escape—only to find Valor's whip of fire snaring his leg, holding him a fraction too long. Diana's shield smashed across his jaw. Nightwing's blade cut again, carving light through shadow.
Glavor staggered. His teleport faltered. For the first time, the trickster bled not in control, but in panic.
"You…" his voices rasped together, eyes burning through a hundred faces. "You barter seconds against the abyss. But seconds are mine."
He vanished in a storm of smoke and bone shards, retreating toward the portal's edge. His laughter echoed, thinner now, but still cruel. "You cannot kill inevitability. You only delay it."
The horde shrieked in response, bodies convulsing, pressing harder.
Diana raised her shield, Valor flexed burned fingers, Nightwing's blade gleamed steady.
Three stood against one. And for the first time, the scales tipped back.